


Working Hours

by SandJackal



Series: Working Hours [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27353221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandJackal/pseuds/SandJackal
Summary: The accounts of Zeke Armon, an African wild dog and his societal, personal, and financial endeavors.
Series: Working Hours [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997665
Kudos: 3





	1. The Grass is Always Greener

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pack Street](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12141837) by [TGWeaver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TGWeaver/pseuds/TGWeaver). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeke ponders the meaning of an old adage while getting ready for work

The sound of my phone’s alarm kicks me out of the slumber I was enjoying. I think this is my second back-up alarm so I know that I won't have time for making breakfast now. Time to enjoy a cold bowl of Beetle Cereal, which I'm pretty sure went stale last week.

Regardless of the condition of my cereal I shove my aching bones out of the bed and sit up with a groan. I reach over my nightstand and open the window. Might as well embrace the soon-to-be sunlight that’ll pierce my groggy head. Reaching over I realize that my back is still sore from bending over for 4 hours yesterday. Damn, planting grass plugs is something I’ll shove onto one of the shorter species next time.

As the light enters and floods my decrepit room I sigh and let my eyes adjust. Though they were built to work in both environments my eyes definitely seem like they prefer working in the dark.

Recoiling at my aching I get off the bed and shuffle through the clothes around my room’s floor and grab a cup I left at my desk to take to my sink. Opening my door I look across the second floor’s main “atrium” which is little more than the same carpeted floor as mine with a tiny skylight that is just a glass square that barely lets any light in.

I look across and I see the door to their room

I know it’s empty but I walk past the bathroom anyway to go look inside anyway. Much to my relief it’s still empty, but the feeling of living alone again is just sinking in more and more each day. I shrug and go to relieve myself, looking in the mirror I See my headfur has made a clump hear the top of my head. I adjust it after pulling my pants back up and studying my face a little. Seeing my baggy eyes and large ears I shoot myself a sharp toothed smile and head downstairs.

Not hearing the extremist news upon first entering the Kitchen is an unwelcome delight. While I disagreed with the opinions, having something to scoff at with someone to react to it was a past-time I didn’t think I would miss.

Pouring myself my cereal and milk and taking a seat onto the small dining table I own in my half-broke folding chair and I’m greeted by a soggy mush rather than a snapping crunch that I’m accustomed to. Sighing I mentally note that this was to be expected and power through.

After rinsing my bowl and spoon I head back up-stairs to get ready for the day, took a shower last night so I just need to cover up my musk and throw on my work clothes. Going into my closet I get the ‘respectable' green polo with the company name on front ‘Greener Pastures” chuckling as I turn it around to see the cheesy catch phrase of ‘The Grass is Always Greener on the Other Side!!”

I audibly remark “That’s what they keep telling me…”

Thinking out loud on the subject I pull the shirt over my head and button it up while searching my floor for my beige work shorts.

“If it’s so much greener then why bother switching sides at all, just be content with what you got and don’t look at the other side!” Reaching under my bed I think more, then begin the usual internal counterpoint. “Because the other side can seem so much better to those who have so little” I shake my head at the thought that I in fact presented. Looking around my desk where my old laptop is placed I finally find the mostly clean short and shove my legs into them. Being careful not to catch my fur in the zipper as I finish putting them on. Checking my phone for time I realize I better finalize this and get going.

I brush my teeth, even the sharp ones to be sure that I'm presentable at the least. And put on the god-awful odor concealer, smells like flowers and femininity in a can.

Looking once more into the mirror I let out a long sigh before starting the most strenuous part of the morning routine.

I contort my facial muscles and strain my muzzle. My face tries buckling against me, but I resist and force the shape to form. This attempt is seeming much more easy than it did yesterday, I wonder if I’m finally getting used to this damned process. Throwing my eyebrows up and making sure to keep my lips curved but not up I look at the product

Seeing him makes me sick

What stands before me is an African Wild Dog I wish I could relate to. He looks so comfortable and is smiling gently at me without even baring his teeth. His eyebrows are up in surprise, but kinda like a “happy-to-see-you!!” surprise. Like a pup getting his first taste of fish. He looks so carefree and ready to serve the public. A genuine Grade-A citizen, say the word and he’ll be there!

I relax my already tired face and rub my usual forlorn expression. This is the Zeke I know, relaxed, but still concerned. Happy, but not without reason. A genuine living creature and not a service machine.

As I turn I see the catchphrase on the back of my polo

‘The Grass is Always Greener on the Other Side!!”

“If that’s true, can’t wait to get there”

I start going out to my driveway, grabbing my keys out of the bowl making sure to not grab theirs.

“Oh yeah“

The uncomfortable feeling of loneliness hits again and I get into my car, the old SUV has been alive longer than me, but it works and it’s got heating at least. Looking towards the front of my house I see the pasty green siding and thinking again to the adage.

The drive is uneventful, nothing more than what I’m used to. Though most predators prefer to work at night, it doesn’t bother me to work when the sun’s up. Makes it easier to seem like you’re less sulky to them at least.

The facade of acting like you’re total equals now because one bad prey went to prison, what a bunch of bologna. Not that I think all prey are faking it, but most are. They say it was just her, but when that shit hit the fan, they were all scared. I saw it, experienced it even. The notion of total equality is a myth.

I clear my mind of self indulging personal thoughts as I make the turn into the shopping center where the main building is. The great Beige eye sore is there in all its glory. With the large neon sign towering over the fenced off parking lot. As I pull up I see the cheesy grass painted on the lower half of the building and the large advertisement stickers glued to the windows of the place.

The vans, truck, and trailers look to be in their usual spot but lots of the usual yard equipment like mowers and chippers seem to be missing. Pulling up I see Boss and a familiar horned figure talking near where the equipment would be.

Walking up towards them through the cracked and littered parking lot I see that my friend and Boss are talking with Boss facing my direction and She facing away from me. Walking up behind her I read her shirt that’s very similar to mine.

‘The Grass is Always Greener on the Other Side!!”

The pronghorn stands there in all her remarkable beauty, from her purple plastic earrings to her black lipstick. Her slender figure captivates me and I find myself ogling her like a kid does candy. I start to open my mouth to greet her.

‘Hey Ra-”

Her rough voice cuts my own off and she grabs me in a vicious hug, even though we’re almost the same height it feels like a dump truck plowing through me. “Zeke! I missed ya, you chaste canine!” embracing her back I let out a breath and smile at the gibe.

Releasing me from her grip she smiles at me and I return the favor. In my genuine smile, Rachael deserves that, not my facade. Looking over to Boss I wave and gesture over to the empty lot.

“Hey Boss, where’s all the equipment gone to?”

In his usual grizzled voice the tall tundra wolf responds, using immense body language waving over at the plot where the equipment would be.

‘Well, Rachael said she needed the equipment cuz her stuff went sour and they ain’t been able ta fix it quite yet. So some of her people came by and picked up ours since we don’t got no jobs on ta agenda today.”

Having his paw to her she nods turning back to me “We only need them for today. Our guys should be able to fix our stuff before the day is done.” Nodding I put my paws in my pockets and look over at Boss who has shifted his attention towards the front door and opening it. His large paws struggling with the small key.

“Need any help Boss?”

“Naw naw, I got it boy”

After some struggling he finesses it enough to open the door and Rachael catches my attention once more. Her soft brown eyes luring me in like a moth to flame.

“Well, I’ve got to get back to the circus that’s uptown. I’ll see you guys around!”

Boss waves at her as he enters our building and I watch as she leaves, giving a wave. Reading the back of her bright neon green shirt I chuckle to myself

‘Yeah so maybe it is….”


	2. I Got a Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeke works hard, but waiting at home is something unexpected

Following Boss inside I see that the customer area has become dirty once more. Groaning and watching as the large wolf retreats back into the employee area via the door on the left, I make my way to the chairs by the windows and set them up straight. Then carefully re-arranging the magazines and remotes so they're easy to access compared to their disarray from before. 

Happy with my work for the moment I go to the back where Boss went before and head over to the clock-in puncher by the back. Boss has retreated to his office on the right side of the building and his shudders closed on his window to the garage area where we fix the machines or vehicles. The break room door on the right is open, with the light on. 

“Quick to get his coffee huh?’

Hearing the smooth voice behind me I turn to see nothing at first, then directing my attention downward. I match the voice to the all too calm marten. His uniform strewn over his thin build like a skeleton wearing a parka. His visage is hazy at best, nothing out of the ordinary for Frank. He’s told me before his sleep schedule is screwy and he has a hard time keeping his sleep once he can finally get into it. 

“Yeah, he had to get here early I think. Rachael had to borrow some of our machines”

Walking up to me as I approach the wall mounted card punching machine, finding my card and punching it in as we continue speaking.

“Why does uptown need our machines? They got a repair bay of their own.”

“They had some big jobs today and they didn’t have time to fix them. Plus we aren’t going out today, Boss is probably going to make us to the monthly maintenance on the vans”

Hearing a groan worthy of an oscar emanate from the short brown marten I chuckle and step aside so that he can scoot a stepstool over. 

“I’m not a goddamn mechanic! I can cut yards, edge yards, and hell! I’ll even plant flowers if it’s part of the job. I did not sign up to fix vans and detach blades bigger than my body on lawn mowers.” 

Throwing his arms up over his head to finish the morning process I shrug and replicate the hick inflection “Well youngin, don cha go getting ideas now! It was in the job description on yer resume!”

Throwing me a look that is all but impressed Frank hops off his pedestal and looks up to me in retort

“Yeah, maybe some of us can’t read the fine print as well.”

“Well I do have a degree in doing that you know” I reply walking with him over to the garage control

‘Lawyering? He inquires, raising an eyebrow with seeming disgust. I shake my head back and start the loud machine that pulls the door up. Having to shout so he can hear me I give him a reply over the cranking of the chain. 

“No, accounting! Not as much homework, plus I can embezzle if I am sneaky about it.”

Scoffing Frank idly scratches at his nose as another familiar face greets us. The gleaming white wool shines off the Goat woman, with a pair of dark horns above her yellow slanted eyes. Dressed in a matching neon green polo and beige cargo pants. She has a very structured figure especially her upper body.

My heart drops to my stomach upon seeing this chiseled goat however. Janet is a real forward type, and her opinions on predators are generally on the side of “Predators don't deserve anything they can’t earn.” or “Despite making up 10% of the population they make up for almost 70% of the crime. 

**THOSE ARE REAL THINGS SHE HAS SAID TO MY FACE**

“Hey guys, heard the door opening and just thought I’d come back this way” 

Her innocent voice makes me cringe internally and Frank gives a wave. I contort my face in such a manner that would be appealing to her, she usually likes it when I do the ritual. My face screams in agony as I stretch the smile across it and give her the time of day.

“Oh hey! Nice to see you Janet!”

“And you too Zeke, say where’s Boss at?”

Gesturing over to his office with my head I give her a small condolence as she walks away. Frank grabs the keys to the van we’re gonna check first. 

“I don’t know how you can even PRETEND to be nice to that old goat”

“Better to give her the facade than get treated like a ex-con in the workplace”

Giving nothing more than a nod in reply Frank goes up the van that is easily fifteen times his size. The door handle is about 2 feet above his head looking down to the key in hand then back to me he has an expression of expected disappointment.

“I don’t know what you were expecting, but toss em over”

Throwing me the keys, I unlock the van door and Frank jumps in front of me to the passenger seat and crawls his way up. Like a tiny Alex Oryxdra, he finaggles his body up into the seat and I take mine next to him.

“Want me to just pick you up next time?”

“No, that’s like super offensive dude”

Raising my brow and slapping my paw to my mouth I take a deep gasp. “Frank! I never knew! You mammals get offended?”

“Yeah yeah, shut up and get it moving”

  
  


Managing to get the Van inside and up on the jacks we begin the maintenance, mostly checking fluids. Though I’m no mechanic I have learned alot from Boss who seems to have a lot of experience on vehicles and engines. 

Speaking of the devil, Boss comes out of his office and comes over to me in the middle of an anti-freeze check and looks over my shoulder. His coarse farmer-john voice is always a surprise, he looks like he would speak like a biker who chain smoked for 40 years.

‘Well hey, not bad Zeke. Glad to see ya actually doin work fer once, instead of fucking around on your phone.”

Just like a stereotypical tough love father there was the compliment which then led to the ass-chewing. 

“Trying my best Boss, hope I’m not messing it up too terribly”

“Naw, looks good enough fer government work.” he pauses and watches as I pour some fluid into the reservoir, he seems very critical of my every move I make.

“Good job, move ya up the food chain ta head mechanic one day if yer lucky.” Cringing at the thought I put down what I’m doing and turn to him.

“While I appreciate the offer Boss, I’m more comfortable with mostly yard work” 

Putting his hands up and nodding his head he starts to retreat back to his office “Just food fer thought.”

  
  


I look over to the clock when me and Frank finish the last Pickup in the lot. The marten looked so physically and mentally exhausted I let him nap in the front seat while I did most of the work. Janet came and left a few times, I could care less what she’s doing. I wake Frank up with a push on the shoulder “Get up dude, quitting time”

The wakes easy and hops out of the cabin of the truck. “Thanks for covering me today Zeke”

“Not a problem” I respond as I poke my head into Boss’s office where he’s busy typing up something on his ancient computer. I’m sure this thing is older than me and my car. 

“Hey me and Frank are out, all vehicles are in good shape except van number 4, I think she needs the brakes changed.” Looking over his computer through a pair of thick reading glasses that make the wolf’s eyes look like an insects. 

‘Alright make sure to clock out and close the garage door, janet should’ve already left and I’m almost done”

“See you tomorrow Boss” I give a half hearted wave and go to the card puncher where franking is scooting his step stool over to. 

“Hey Zeke, you got any grass in your car?” Frank asks out of the blue while finishing his task.

“Number one be quiet about that shit, number two, no I don't keep that stuff around as much anymore”

“Damn man, I was hoping to get to bed when I got home”

Dragging my paw down my face as I go to clock myself out I look down at him and let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Since they left my apartment I just dont use it as much anyway”. Frank shrugs and we walk out below the closing garage door. 

“Worth a shot asking”

  
  


The drive home has a nice sunset going down behind me, my plan is to get home and finish a movie I started last night. A nice quiet conclusion to a boring day. 

Pulling into my driveway I see a collection of boxes piled up next to my front door, which is open. My landlord didn’t tell me anything about a new tenant. Upon closer inspection of the boxes I see a black sharpie signature scribbled onto them 

“Tennet”

I scoff and turn my car off, can’t even spell it right? What kind of stunt is this? I walk up to the open front door and peer inside, not a soul in sight. I rap on the door with no response.

“Hello!?”

Nothing in response, I go upstairs and I see that my door is open. Which honestly could’ve been me Turning to the bathroom and other bedroom isee that the lights are on for both under the doors. Going to the bedroom I knock and upon doing so hear a set of footfalls.

Backing up so that I'm not in their face when they open the door, in anguish prepare my facade just in case my landlord sets me up with a prey species. 

The door opens and I turn my head downard to see a chubby little fuzzy species I don't think I’ve seen before. He has a round head and small ears on the sides of his head. His tiny black eyes contrast his wide body. He has golden huggie earrings, and a golden chain necklace. He has a wife beater on, tucked into a pair of expensive name brand pants with a even more expensive looking belt between the two. 

Before I get a chance to open my mouth he almost shouts in my face 

“Goddamnit, the landlord didn’t say you were gonna be a pred”

The words hit me like a ton of bricks and I feel my face falter. 

“What’s with the cheesy smile for?”

Unable to even speak, I just kinda start to open my mouth, I feel the cool breeze from his AC hit my teeth but I don’t care.

“...I uh..”

“You got a problem bro?? Spit it out, if not…”

He sticks his hand up to me and I'm at a loss for words as I reach down and shake it.

“Tight bro, I know y'all ain't as bad as they try to say you guys are. I’m Tennet, I just moved in today. Landlord man said he tried calling you. To let you know I was coming to stay.”

Finally mustering the calmness to speak, I snap my smile back into formation. I take a moment to realize I had gone the whole day without checking my phone, and I usually have it on silent so that Boss doesn't chew me out.

“O-oh, well nice to meet you dude I’m-”

A phone call emanates from and he cuts me off, reaching into his pocket and putting a single finger up as to say “Hold on a minute!”

“Yeah? Oh hey! Yeah no I’m talking to my roommate, get this, he’s a pred bro! Yeah yeah, uhh I don’t know?” Looking over to me putting a hand over the receiver 

“What species you bro? Like a hyena or something?”

I start to turn, giving him nothing more than a labored response “African wild dog…”

He echoes the title into his phone and I go to my room, closing the door. Looking into my cell I see a bunch of missed notifications, mostly from my landlord. Turning the phone off I look into my reflection and see that I’m still making the forced smile.

Stopping the expression I rub my numb cheeks and turn towards my door where I hear his booming dude-bro voice.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by TG_Weaver's pack street and using his interpretation of Zootopia as the setting.


End file.
